By Charlie Thaddeus | Pounding The Rock (PtR), 2026-06-01 14:15:17

我永远不会忘记蒂姆·邓肯 (Tim Duncan) 最后一次离开俄克拉荷马城球场时的情景。那支充满天赋、充满看点但最终仍有欠缺的马刺队,刚刚在西部半决赛第六场中输给了雷霆队。邓肯悄然走下球场,简短地挥了挥手,便消失在球员通道里。转瞬之间,一切已成过往。我们所熟知的那个马刺时代,就此画上了句号。
我记得那一刻我惊慌失措,因为你能真切地感受到,某种超越篮球本身的东西正随着他的离去而消逝。我不确定未来的路会怎样,但我很清楚,自己再也不会经历那样一段岁月了。
果不其然,在接下来的十年里,我渐渐习惯了这种感觉。我开始明白联盟中其他球队是如何生存的,也看清了外面的世界到底有多残酷。当家球星会决定离开。季后赛绝非你生来就该拥有的特权。你会经历大量的失败。你偶尔会感到心灰意冷。当邓肯走下球场时我所害怕的那一幕,最终还是发生了。那个时代确实结束了。当然,随着这逐渐成为我们的现实,它变得不再那么令人恐惧,但这并不意味着它不带有一丝悲凉。每一个赛季都像是一个冰冷的提醒:我们曾拥有的不仅是独一无二的,而且已经一去不复返了。我们或许只能心怀感激,庆幸自己曾亲眼见证过这一切。
我已经完全接受了这一切,并与现实达成了和解。马刺球迷不可能永远拥有美好的事物,这没关系。这就是篮球,这就是生活。
然而,这个赛季却格外特别。坦白说,自打三年前那颗乒乓球(乐透抽签)幸运地眷顾我们以来,一切都变得有些特别,但直到这个赛季,一切才真正开始步入正轨。这支球队不再只是一个概念,而是开始成为触手可及的现实。这是一种熟悉的感觉,即便我们中的许多人仍在试图克制这种期待。我们不是已经和现实和解了吗?另一只靴子已经落地了。我们已经度过了属于我们的黄金时代。我们已经享受过阳光下的辉煌。在当时看来,无视眼前不断累积的希望迹象似乎才是谨慎的、必要的,甚至是明智的。
所以,是的,我压根没指望这场比赛能完美地为邓肯的“最后一舞”画上圆满的句号。我甚至从未想过这会是一个选项。当你与某件事达成和解时,你就会停止去寻找它。你无法复制邓肯。我已经接受了这一点。但我未曾想过的是,也许你根本不需要去复制他。
前几天在俄克拉荷马城的那个夜晚,感觉并不像是对过去的重塑,也不像是历史的回响。它感觉像是一件崭新的事物,却不知何故承载着同样沉甸甸的分量——正是这种分量,让曾经的那支马刺队显得超越了篮球本身。这群年轻球员从未真正经历过一支举足轻重的马刺队。他们听说过,看过集锦。他们每晚在那些冠军退役球衣和旗帜下打球,深知其背后的含义。但他们展现出的专注与紧迫感,完全是一支试图亲手打造属于自己时代的队伍。他们穿上银黑战袍,继承了这支球队,就像继承了一栋房子。也许房子不是你建的,但现在它是你的了。
在我们的余生中,我们都会记住像朱利安·尚帕尼 (Julian Champagnie) 这样的球员,他在客场的抢七大战中投中了六记三分球。他虽然没有单枪匹马赢下比赛,但他用实际行动彻底打破了我的理论——即“尚帕尼神仙球”只能发生一次。单单在第三节,利用文班一次又一次相同的掩护,尚帕尼不断出手,不断命中。一个按常理来说不该站在这里、也不该有能力应对这一大场面的球员,却绝对主宰了那一刻。
我们可以讲述关于德文·瓦塞尔 (Devin Vassell) 和凯尔登·约翰逊 (Keldon Johnson) 的故事。他们是经历过马刺低谷期的那批人。他们承受了每一次艰难的时期和糟糕的开局,经历了每一次提前出局,听够了那句随着时间推移开始显得有些空洞的“我们正在朝着目标建设”。还有数不尽的交易流言。但他们都坦然面对,坚持出勤,始终相信这支球队的未来。昨晚,凯尔登在场上投中了不可思议的三分球,而德文则在时间即将耗尽时用一记势大力沉的扣篮为比赛画上惊叹号。他们庆祝得比谁都卖力,笑得比谁都大声。当比赛结束时,他们的神情就像是完全明白走到这一步付出了多少,因为他们全程见证并参与了这一切。
还有维克托·文班亚马 (Victor Wembanyama),他无法被简单地归入这两个群体中的任何一个。他不是背负着低谷期重担的老将,但也绝非对历史毫无感知的懵懂新人。他是联盟前所未见的存在。更重要的是,他也不是邓肯,这一点值得我们时不时大声提醒自己。
他们的打法不同,行事风格也不同。他们给人的感觉几乎像是来自完全不同的星球。邓肯似乎超然于万物之上,是一根沉默的支柱,坚定而稳定。而维克托则像是一股席卷一切的狂飙,展现出满溢而出的旷世天赋,永远在挑战可能的极限。这种对比极其强烈。然而不知何故,在这一刻,给人的感觉却是一样的。22分、7个篮板,西部决赛MVP。虽然他的打法并不低调,但结果却同样举重若轻,而且他似乎完全不在意这一切本该是多么的“不可能”。
十年前,邓肯挥了挥手走进了那条通道,在空气中留下了一些我最终不再去寻找的东西。而周六晚上,在同一座球馆里,沿着同一条通道,维克托·文班亚马走下球场,我感受到了一种久违的感觉。那不是解脱,也不是狂喜,而更像是一种认同感。就好像答案一直都在走来的路上,只是我早已停止了追问。
眼前发生的一切或许让人感到熟悉,但请放心,这完全是另一回事。文班亚马时代不会和邓肯时代一模一样。他们可能不会在未来十年里夺得五次总冠军。他们可能不会成为职业精神的绝对标杆。他们也绝对不会表现得那么低调。但他们必定会创造属于自己的传奇。未来有着无限的可能。
我们不会回到过去,也从未打算回去。我们正在做的是大步向前。这根本不是一次回归。
这是一次宣告到来的登场。
这难道不令人惊叹吗?
要点总结:
- 我简直不敢相信,我们竟然迎来了属于自己的“勒布朗·詹姆斯 (LeBron James) 式追身大帽”时刻,而完成这一壮举的居然是卢克·科内特 (Luke Kornet)。或者我应该用他的官方全称来称呼他——“饱受诟病的卢克·科内特”?大家都在为那一记神级封盖而疯狂,但很多人忽略了,在那个回合之前的失误发生时,我的身体几乎要恐慌发作了。哈珀 (Harper)——上帝保佑他——试图强行把球传给科内特,而哈滕施泰因 (Isaiah Hartenstein) 突然杀出断球,然后一路狂奔奔向球门。你能想象一个七英尺高的大个子试图打快攻吗?他脑子里到底在想什么?无论如何,一想到偏偏是“哈滕”要完成这次精彩的快攻并将分差缩小到4分,我就几乎要崩溃了。主场观众本要彻底沸腾,而我的心都要提到嗓子眼了。我不知道科内特是怎么跑得那么快的。我也不知道他是怎么完成那么干净的封盖的。我想我也不需要知道。有些奇迹是不需要解释的。
致胜回合的定义
pic.twitter.com/XNRc4vl0f5
— 圣安东尼奥马刺 (@ spurs) 2026年5月31日
- 我简直不敢相信雷霆在这场比赛中竟然两度领先。除了第一场,在整个系列赛中,一旦失去势头,想要重新夺回几乎是不可能的。就好像我们只被允许有一次大反扑的机会,如果你让对方重新占据上风,比赛就交代了。当谢伊·吉尔杰斯-亚历山大 (Shai Gilgeous-Alexander) 在第二节手感发烫时,我脑海里所有的警报器都拉响了,疯狂提示我们以前看过这出悲剧。最疯狂的部分是,我甚至都没时间去恐慌。马刺队极其冷静地重新掌控了局面。福克斯 (Fox) 飙中三分,KJ得分,福克斯又中一记三分。他们就这样直接扑灭了对手的火焰。半场结束时我上气不接下气,心想:刚才到底发生了什么?
- 下半场亚历克斯·卡鲁索 (Alex Caruso) 帮助他们反超比分时也是同样的情况。61-60。在我甚至还没来得及感受到冰冷的恐惧扼住喉咙之前,朱利安 (Jules) 就飙中了几个三分,带队掀起了反扑狂潮。我想从那一刻起,我们直接轰出了一波16-2的高潮。这感觉就像雷霆队倾尽所有才夺回了那点领先优势,而马刺队所要做的就是熬死他们。家人们,抢七大战真的太疯狂了。
- 我一直都在极力避免去想在总决赛对阵尼克斯这回事,因为显然,这在之前会给马刺的晋级之路泼冷水(是的,我想在某种程度上,我感觉自己确实是球队的一员,谢谢关心)。但现在,我的天啊,我简直不敢相信我们真的要在总决赛对阵尼克斯了。这绝对会是一场火星撞地球的对决。我心中最不为人知的篮球小秘密是,我其实挺喜欢在麦迪逊广场花园 (MSG) 看季后赛的,因为看着那里的球迷陷入疯狂、看着那座充满复古气息的球馆以及场边的各路名流,真的很有意思。那太好玩了!但一想到我们可爱的孩子们要作为公敌踏入那个大熔炉,我心里就有点不是滋味。在重新摆出战斗姿态之前,请再给我10分钟的时间来平复一下心情。
- 我们要进总决赛了,你敢信吗?????
GSG pic.twitter.com/mCmlhM99JU
— 圣安东尼奥马刺 (@ spurs) 2026年5月31日
WWL 赛后新闻发布会
你申请到总决赛的媒体证了吗?
没有。听着,虽然我觉得去现场报道会很棒,但如果我真的去现场,那就违背了我在这里写作的初衷和纯粹性。
你真这么觉得?
是的,我的意思是,我在这里写的东西是非常真实且不加修饰的。对吧?这是一种纯粹、毫无保留的球迷狂热。我可不会在媒体席上和那些大人物套近乎,装得像个正儿八经的“大牌记者”。我在这里展现的是最真实的自我。我正用红蜡笔在《海洋奇缘》涂色本的背面写笔记,吐槽我有多讨厌切特·霍姆格伦 (Chet Holmgren) 的长相。我还在编一些关于我家狗子的趣事——它们只要在屏幕上看到卡特·布莱恩特 (Carter Bryant) 就会竖起耳朵,因为“英雄惜英雄”。另外,我觉得如果我真的在现场见到蒂姆·邦唐 (Tim Bontemps),我可能得被保安护送出场。
所以,郑重声明一下,如果有人给你一张总决赛的媒体证,你会礼貌地拒绝,对吗?
喂?
你那边没声音了,出什么事了吗?
喂,不好意思,信号好像有点差,没听清最后一个问题。
你会拒绝媒体证和去现场报道总决赛的机会?
听着,老兄,你那边声音断断续续的,我们回头再聊。马刺加油!
由生成式 AI 翻译,译文内容可能不准确或不完整,以原文为准。
点击查看原文:What We Learned from the Spurs GAME SEVEN WIN OVER THE THUNDER LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOO
What We Learned from the Spurs GAME SEVEN WIN OVER THE THUNDER LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOO

I’ll never forget Tim Duncan leaving the floor for the last time in Oklahoma City. A talented, interesting, and ultimately lacking Spurs team had just lost to the Thunder in Game 6 of the Western Conference Semifinals. Timmy slipped off the court, raised his hand briefly, and disappeared into the tunnel. Blink and you miss it. The Spurs as we knew them were done.
I remember panicking in that moment because you could tangibly sense that something bigger than basketball was leaving with him. I wasn’t sure what things were going to look like moving forward, but I knew I’d never experience anything like it again.
Sure enough, I spent the next ten years settling into that feeling. Understanding how the rest of the world lived and just exactly how scary it is out there. Star players decide they want to leave. The playoffs aren’t some birthright you’re entitled to. You lose a lot. You check out from time to time. That thing I was so scared of when Tim walked off the court did come to pass. It really was over. Sure, it became less scary the more it became our reality, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still a little sad. Every season felt a little bit more like a cold reminder that not only was what we had singular, it was also finished. We should just be grateful we got to see it at all.
I had fully accepted all of that. Made my peace with it. Spurs fans don’t get to have nice things forever, and that’s fine. That’s basketball. That’s life.
This season has been special though. Frankly, everything has been a little special since that ping pong ball bounced our way three years ago, but this is the season where it really started to click. Where this team stopped feeling like an idea and started feeling like a reality. It was a familiar feeling, even if I think a lot of us were still keeping it at bay. We’d made our peace, right? The other shoe had come. We’d had our golden era. We’d had our time in the sun. Ignoring the evidence piling up in front of us seemed prudent. Necessary. Wise, even.
So yeah, I wasn’t really expecting this game to cleanly close the loop on Duncan’s last dance. It didn’t occur to me that it was even something that was on the menu. The thing about making your peace with something is that you stop looking for it. You can’t recreate what Tim Duncan was. I’d accepted that. What I hadn’t considered was that maybe you don’t have to.
The other night in Oklahoma City didn’t feel like a recreation. It didn’t feel like an echo. It felt like something new that somehow carried the same specific gravity that made those old Spurs teams feel like more than basketball. These kids have never really known a Spurs team that mattered. They’ve heard about it. They’ve seen the highlights. They play under those banners every night and they know what it means. But they carry themselves with the focus and urgency of a group trying to build something of their own. They put on the silver and black and inherited the franchise the same way you might inherit a house. Maybe you didn’t build it, but it’s yours now.
For the rest of our lives, we get to remember guys like Julian Champagnie, who hit six threes in a Game 7 on the road. He didn’t exactly win the game on his own, but he went out of his way to disprove my theory that there can only be one Champagnie Game. In the third quarter alone, off the same Wemby screen run again and again, Champagnie just kept shooting. Kept making them. A guy who by every reasonable measure should not be here and should not be capable of meeting this moment was absolutely owning it.
We get to tell stories about Devin Vassell and Keldon Johnson. These are guys who lived through the other version of this. They absorbed every tough stretch and false start, every early exit, every “we’re building toward something” speech that probably started to feel a little hollow after a while. Every trade rumor too, and there were plenty of those. They took all of it in stride, kept showing up, kept believing in what this thing was becoming. Last night Keldon was out there hitting impossible threes and Devin was throwing down exclamation point dunks as time expired. They celebrated harder. Laughed louder. When it was over they looked like guys who understood exactly what it had taken to get there, because they were there for all of it.
And then there’s Victor Wembanyama, who doesn’t fit neatly into either group. He’s not a veteran carrying the weight of the bad years, but he’s also not some kid unburdened by history. He’s something the league hasn’t quite seen before. Importantly, he’s also not Tim Duncan, something that’s worth saying out loud every once in a while.
They play differently. They carry themselves differently. They almost feel like they come from different planets entirely. Tim seemed to float above everything, a silent pillar, steadfast and consistent. Victor crashes into it, a wild and extraordinary talent bursting at the seams, always pushing against the edges of what’s possible. The contrast is almost remarkable. And yet somehow, in this moment, the feeling was the same. Twenty-two points. Seven rebounds. Western Conference Finals MVP. Quiet in result if not in method, and without any apparent concern for how impossible this was all supposed to be.
Tim Duncan raised his hand and walked into that tunnel ten years ago and left something hanging in the air that I eventually stopped looking for. Saturday night, in that same building, down that same tunnel, Victor Wembanyama walked off the court, and I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Not relief, not joy, but something closer to recognition. Like the answer had been coming all along and I had just stopped asking the question.
Whatever is happening right now might feel familiar but, rest assured, it’s something else entirely. The Wembanyama era isn’t going to look like the Duncan era. They probably aren’t going to win five titles over the next decade. They probably aren’t going to set the standard for professionalism. They certainly aren’t going to do it quite so quietly. What they are going to do is make it their own. The possibilities are endless.
We’re not going back and we never were. What we are doing is moving forward. This isn’t a return at all.
It’s an arrival.
How amazing is that?
Takeaways:
- I can’t believe we got our LeBron James chase down block moment and that Luke Kornet was the one who did it. Or should I call him by his full official title, “The Much Maligned Luke Kornet”? Lost in the sauce of how crazy that play was is that I think my body almost had a full blown panic attack at the turnover that preceded it. Harper, God love him, trying to force that pass into Luke, and Hartenstien screaming in front of it and then racing down the court. Can you imagine a seven footer trying to run a fast break? Where does he even get these ideas? Anyway, the idea of I-Hart of all people being the one to make this amazing play and draw the score back to a four point game almost ended me. The crowd was going to erupt and my insides were going to leak out of my ears. I don’t know how Kornet got there so fast. I don’t know how he got it so clean. I don’t think I want to know. Some miracles don’t need to be explained.
definition of a winning play
pic.twitter.com/XNRc4vl0f5
— San Antonio Spurs (@ spurs) May 31, 2026
- I can’t believe the Thunder led twice in this game. Excluding Game 1, it felt like in this series that shifting momentum back once you lost it was almost impossible. Like we were only allotted one big swing, and if you let the other team regain the upper hand it was over. When Shai caught fire in the second quarter, every alarm bell in my head went off, blaring about how we’d seen this movie before. The craziest part is that I didn’t even really have time to have a panic attack. The Spurs calmly just regained control. Fox hit a three. KJ scored. Fox hit another three. They just shut it down. The half ended and I was out of breath, like, what just happened?
- Same thing when Caruso put them up in the second half. 61-60. Before I could even recognize the icy dread closing around my throat, Jules banged in a few threes and we were off. I think it was like a 16-2 run directly from that moment. It was like the Thunder put everything they had into clawing back that lead and all the Spurs had to do was outlast them. Y’all, Game 7s are insane.
- I’ve been steadfastly avoiding even thinking about the concept of playing the Knicks in the Finals because, obviously, that would’ve been a death blow to the Spurs chances here (yeah, I guess in a way it is like I’m on the team, thanks for asking). But now, oh my god, I can’t believe we’re about to play the Knicks in the Finals. This is going to be insane. The dirtiest basketball secret I hold in my heart is that I kind of love watching playoff games at MSG because it’s fun watching that crowd go insane and the arena is so old school and all the celebrities, etc. It’s very fun! The concept of our sweet boys rolling into that cauldron as the enemy sort of hurts my heart. Please allow me like 10 more minutes to grieve before I put my game face back on.
- WE’RE GOING TO THE FINALS CAN YOU BELIEVE IT???
GSG pic.twitter.com/mCmlhM99JU
— San Antonio Spurs (@ spurs) May 31, 2026
WWL Post Game Press Conference
Have you inquired yet about getting a press pass for the Finals?
No, look, as much as I think it’d be swell to go cover these in person, I think it would go against the integrity of what I do here to actually be in the building for one of these.
You think so?
Yeah, I mean, what I do here is raw. Right? Like, this is pure, uncut fandom over here. I’m not out there hobnobbing with the big shots on media row acting like some capital J journalist. I’m over here getting real. I’m writing notes on the back of a Moana coloring book with a red crayon about disliking Chet Holmgren’s face. I’m spinning up charming anecdotes about my dogs perking up whenever they see Carter Bryant on screen because “Real recognizes Real.” Plus, I think if I ever saw Tim Bontemps in person I’d need to be escorted out by security.
So, on the record, if you were offered a press pass to one of these finals games, you would politely decline?
Hello?
It’s gone quiet on your end, everything ok?
Hi, sorry, the connection got choppy, didn’t hear that last question.
You would turn down a press pass and a chance to cover the Finals in person?
Look, pal, you’re breaking up, let’s pick this up later, GO SPURS GO!
By Charlie Thaddeus, via Pounding The Rock



